


Walls Aren't Just For Holding Ceilings Up

by PracticallyIJ



Category: Impractical Jokers
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn without plot with fluff, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-05 18:28:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5385959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PracticallyIJ/pseuds/PracticallyIJ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Walls aren't just for holding ceilings up - people can have fun with them too. A little ficlet in which Sal and Q discover the joys of walls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walls Aren't Just For Holding Ceilings Up

**Author's Note:**

> Rated Mature for the epic amounts of smut. Enjoy the wall sex! If you're expecting plot, you may be a little disappointed.

Q shoved Sal backwards through his front door, kicked it closed with his foot, and threw the other guy's keys on a side table. Sal caught his balance and stood in the hallway, breathing hard, looking at Q with an odd mixture of emotions on his face - half bashful, half undisguised lust. Q swiftly moved forward and kissed him fervently, hands round his waist, causing Sal to groan and close his eyes. His hands moved to entwine in Q's hair as he returned the kiss with passion. After a while, Q broke away from Sal's lips and started peppering kisses on his neck, eliciting little moans and gasps from him. Apparently that was a sensitive area, a fact Q stowed away for later use.

"God, you looked so fuckin' hot at the shoot today," he murmured between kisses, "you have no idea how long I've wanted this."

Sal let out an incoherent "F-Fuck..." as Q nipped at his neck, and then breathily: "...is _that_ why you made me take my pants off during the goddamn challenge?"

Q laughed huskily. "Yep." He lifted his head and looked Sal in the eyes. His best friend's pupils were wide and dark, beautiful irises barely visible in his arousal. His face was red and his expression was both questioning and slightly pleading. Q suddenly needed more, needed everything. He pushed Sal hard against the wall of the hallway, his reward a small "Oh!" of surprise. He ground against Sal's crotch, and closed his eyes when the resulting wave of pleasure rolled from his dick to his stomach, noting how Sal gasped and suddenly grabbed at Q's hips, grinding back. Q growled in frustration - it wasn't enough, there was too much fucking _material_ between them - and reached down, unzipping them both and taking his jeans off. Sal stepped out of his pants while Q continued his ministrations on his neck, still pinning him against the wall.

"Q, fuck..." Sal unbuttoned his boxers and took his cock out. He fumbled at Q's underwear, and Q guided him, inhaling sharply when he felt Sal's long warm fingers on his shaft, then rubbing both of their cocks together, moving his hand up and down. Q threw his head back, moaning, as Sal buried his face in his shoulder, muffling his cries. Q was too close, it was too soon...

"Sal," he panted, "you gotta stop, buddy, or I'm gonna come right now. You - you got any lube?"

Sal lifted up his head and looked again at Q. He bit his lip, thinking. Q suppressed an urge to bite his bottom lip _for_ him. "Side table drawer, in my bedroom."

Q ran upstairs to get it, leaving the other man to lean his head back on the wall and catch his breath. A second later he was back. "Got it," he looked at Sal, who looked a little anxious, "you - you okay with this, bud?"

"Yeah, I am." Sal smiled at Q, the dimple he found so fucking adorable making an appearance. "I trust you. You're my best friend," he stopped and frowned, and added, "or my... somethin'? Fuck, what is this anyway? What-?"

Q interrupted his fretting with a kiss, never breaking eye contact. "We'll worry about that later. For now..." he grinned and gestured to the bottle he held in his hand. Sal nodded and smirked, his eyes mischievous and full of desire, and quickly took his boxers off. Q squirted lube on his fingers, coating them, "stop me if this feels bad, okay?"

"I will." Sal braced himself against the wall, splaying his legs out.

Kissing Sal slowly and deeply, he painstakingly inserted one finger into Sal's hole. Sal tensed up, but when Q stopped, looking at him with concern, he gestured at him to carry on. Eventually Q got three fingers inside him, and when he was sure his friend was used to the feeling, experimentally made a beckoning motion. Sal gasped and his legs buckled underneath him.

"God... Q! The fuck was _that_? That felt so..." He moaned loudly as Q repeated the action.

"I think that was your prostate, buddy," Q murmured shakily, his own arousal magnified by Sal's obvious pleasure, "I guess you're ready."

"You don't fuckin' _say_... Come on, Q. I need... oh God... _I need you_!"

Q smiled and removed his fingers. He squirted more lube, slicking up his cock. Then, to Sal's surprise, he placed his arms around Sal's waist and lifted him against the wall, Sal's legs wrapping around his waist.

"Sh-shit, Quinn, how'd you get so strong?"

"I was a firefighter, remember? I lifted guys your size out of burning buildings more than a few times." He nipped and sucked at Sal's neck, placed his cock at Sal's entrance, and slowly pushed in. Sal shuddered with discomfort and held onto Q tightly, who kissed him, caressed him, and whispered encouragingly in his ear, until he was as far in as Sal could handle. He took a minute to make sure Sal was comfortable, squeezing his eyes closed and gasping in pleasure at the hot, tight feel of it.

Then Sal whined impatiently. "Q, please, now! I need it, I need you, I can't stand it any more, just fuck me already!"

That was all the encouragement Q needed. He rolled his hips and felt again that sharp bolt of pleasure hit him deep in the pit of his belly. He threw all caution to the wind and pulled half out, then thrust into Sal, who was clutching onto Q, moaning into his neck.

They set up a steady rhythm, and Q could feel the tension building in his spine and the pit of his stomach. He was so close. He thrust harder and faster, taking in and committing to memory every aspect of Sal in this moment: that he was now holding onto Q with just one arm, the other thrown half across his face as if embarrassed to be seen this way. That he was bordering on sobbing in his cries and gasps. That his legs were wrapped tight around Q's waist, feet hooked at the back as Q supported him. That he was bright red and sweaty. He had never seen him so fucking _gorgeous_ in over twenty years of friendship, and if this was only a one-time thing - well, he wanted to remember it.

He knew Sal was close, so still gazing at his face, wanting to take in every detail, he wrapped a hand around his cock and started jerking him in time to their thrusting. Sal's sobbing moans turned into a litany of incoherent swearing and Q's given name.

Then he trembled all over, breathing his name again as if it was a prayer - " _B-Bri..._ " - and came over Q's hand.

Hearing his name spoken like that by Sal was the tipping point for Q. He felt the spasms of Sal's orgasm around his cock, and thrust a few more times, before he came too, shuddering and groaning, face buried in his best friend's neck. They rode out the aftershocks together, while Q murmured roughly into Sal's ear, Sal shivering at every endearment: "You're so gorgeous, God you were amazing, d'you even know how fuckin' beautiful you are." Mixed in with the mumbled declarations, too, was Sal's name, spoken reverently, with new significance attached to it that had never been there before.

After about half a minute, Q pulled out of him. They both slid down the wall to the floor, still entwined, too spent to do anything else.

Sal was the first to break the silence, his voice sleepy and hoarse in the afterglow. "God, what a mess!"

 


End file.
